Title: Dancing Fools and Desktops (censored)
Author: Twitchable Wiz
Genre: romance/smut
M or NC-17 (M or R for FFn)
Fandom: South Park
Pairing(s): Tweek/Craig, others
Warnings: language, slash, strong sexual content, nudity (Don't like it, don't read it. Flames will make me giggle for hours.) EDITED FOR FFn so I don't get deleted!

Summary: My long-awaited T/C smut. Tweek and Craig get it on. In more ways than one. Fluffy smut.

Disclaimer: All characters presented herein are the property of Comedy Central, Trey Parker, and Matt Stone. No profit of any kind is being made from this story. I don't own; please don't sue. I'm dirt-poor anyway, so it's not as if you'd get much. I just love these characters to death, and enjoy playing with them in my mind. twitches Any and all song lyrics or literary quotes, unless otherwise noted, are the properties of their respective owners, who will be credited at the end of each chapter. Once again, I do not own, don't sue poor Twitch! Anything otherwise noted, such as poetry or original lyrics, as well as the plot and storyline, are mine. Please do not use, copy, or post elsewhere without explicit permission from me. Printed copies are perfectly fine (if you actually think my work is good enough to print out) as long as proper credit is given. You can reach me through my homepage, listed in my profile.

Further Disclaimers: Songs used will be credited at the end of the fic.

Author's Notes: Well…here it is. The long-awaited voted-for Tweek/Craig smut promised. This is the third incarnation of the story. The first took off into the long, involved chapter realm. So I put it aside for later. I wanted a one-shot for this. The second was word-barf. So I scrapped it. This incarnation was written in a seven-hour writing frenzy…most of which was me beta-ing a million times as usual to correct my horrible typing. I apologize if I missed anything.

Basically, Tweek and Craig get put in a sticky situation which leads to…another sticky situation. ;). Told from the perspective of Tweek. The "other site" version will have an extremely graphic sex scene. If you're just after some Tweek/Craig fluff, stick with the FFn version.

I understand that the characters will be OOC. Especially during the sex scene. But hey, it's my fic. I'll do as I feel necessary. Craig is Italian cuz I am and I felt like making him that way. Pfft to anyone who doesn't like it. :D

Dedicated first and foremost to Maggie, as always. Cuz I love her to death, and cuz without her nobody would have ever even heard of a spazzy little freak from Colorado named Twitch. Also dedicated to all my wonderful friends at dA, especially those who voted in the poll of what Twitchy should write next. I LOVE YOU ALL! Special shout goes out to Toasty, who dreams about Tweek/Craig sex and made me jealous enough to need to write this. Shouts to my "mommy" Corrie, whose story Expo '86 owns my soul right now. GO READ IT AND REVIEW! To Taylor, or Smartykid, who has reviewed everything I have ever written and is an absolutely wonderful person. And to Sarah, otherwise known as Bagatelle. My writing idol who is sorely missed by everyone. We love you Sarah.

More notes will follow.

Without further ado…Dancing Fools and Desktops.

"Craig…I f-feel like an idiot. Why do we really have to d-dress up for these stupid things?" My voice gave its usual shiver and shake and I mentally poked myself in the eye. Take a deep breath, Tweek.

My boyfriend of one year turned to me and rolled his eyes. I was hurt for about 2.367 seconds before his grin made me blush scarlet. It was equal parts loving affection and unadulterated lust…which made me feel all kinds of weird inside. Kind of like someone had pulled the rug out from under me and then the whole world stopped as I hung in midair, still feeling that bizarre sensation of falling accompanied by a small burst of fear-induced adrenaline.

If I had to pick one word to describe Craig Cavelli, or "Caveman" as he was known among the jocks of our school, it was…..fuckable. To which my rational brain responds with "OHGOD!" But he was. Anyone who looked at him and said differently was a fucking moron.

Warm dark chocolate eyes gazed at me from his six feet four inches of height. His soft messy hair was a weird mix of black and soft brown that always fell into his eyes. That combined with his "melt me from across the room" smile gave him a perpetually naughty look. His skin was a perfect tan that only came from good genetics, marred only by a small sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of his nose. My Italian Stallion. And boy did he ever have the body to go with it. Years of soccer, football, swimming…and dancing, though he'd never admit it…had turned him into some kind of 200 pound sculpted God. Why he was with me I'll never know.

Me…I'm blonde. Like, REALLY blond. Bright-ass yellow hair. And it will remain that way. I expressed a desire to dye it exactly once. Craig said if I ever did he'd never kiss me again. That shut me up with a quickness. No more of those sinfully talented lips on mine? I'd totally die from the pressure. I also have crazy turquoise eyes. They're such an unnatural shade of blue-green you'd swear they were contacts. But no. Combined with my sickly white skin…let's just say I'm real odd looking. I also stand a pathetic five feet three inches, which makes me look awful stupid next to Craig. I weigh in at a whopping 100 lbs of sheer scrawniness. And well…I twitch. A lot. It's kind of my one claim to fame. Very few people know me by name in our school. I'm either "Caveman's little fucktoy" or "that spazzy kid." Which is silly, because even though I'm pretty twitchy, Butters is a way bigger spazz. If that kid got any more hyperactive he'd explode.

Anyway…Craig and I are definitely an odd couple. But we love each other more than anything. We compliment each other, and we have a lot more in common than most people would guess. But I digress. Back to the hellhole known as Senior Prom.

"Tweeky, it's a dance. Supposedly the biggest one of our lives. You're supposed to look nice. Which you do. Absolutely hot, I'd say. By the end of this stupid thing, we'll be the envy of every girl in this place. Tonight when they're all getting knocked up in the back seat of their boyfriends' cars, they'll actually be thinking about us. The two gorgeous queers they can't have!" He gave me the "oolala" eyebrows and a leer. I felt myself blush even harder, but I couldn't help chuckling at his goofiness. Only Craig.

"So…do we actually have to dance then?"

He gave me a look of disdain that barely concealed his fear. "Pfft. No, we just mingle with friends and drink a lot of punch. Nobody will say a word."

I gave him a small smile. That was okay with me, as I really couldn't handle dancing in front of all these people. Don't get me wrong, I can dance. Mine and Craig's friendship actually began in Madame Raphali's School of Dance. My mom thought that I should have some kind of artsy way to express myself and burn off all my excessive energy. His mom wanted him and his sister to actually have something to bond over. Don't think that exactly worked out. We both rebelled over the whole thing quite a bit, till we met in the first class. We both were beyond relieved to not be the only male and to have someone we knew there, and ended up sticking close to each other, fighting off giggling girls like that silly blonde cow, Bebe. After stealing her panties and threatening to hang them up on the school flag pole, we convinced Bebe to never ever mention our dancing careers. She never said a word for years.

So I can dance. Just really didn't want to show that off in front of all those people. Craig…he was terrified. He dances very well…but he's got some self-image issues. That's why he's so brash and in peoples' faces all the time. To disguise the fact that he really cares a lot about how people perceive him. The only thing different was when we became a couple. He just flat out said that he loved me too much to give a damn what anybody thought of "us", and our first day at school as an item, he just kissed me in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Not just any kiss either. I mean the kind of kiss that left me barely hanging on to the cafeteria bench and in desperate need of my inhaler. There was stunned silence for all of five seconds, and then a whole bunch of girls burst into a resounding chorus of "Awww!" A couple of guys made barfing noises, and Craig shut them up with his signature move. Kenny made me giggle with a couple of catcalls and whistles and even a call for "Encore!" The best were Clyde, Token, Kyle, and Stan. They acted like nothing had happened out of the ordinary other than congrats on becoming a couple, resuming our conversation about last week's soccer game against Middle Park.

I'm tangent-ing again. I do have a story I'm trying to tell. Mine and Craig's first time.

So I gave him a mini-grin and went back to being really uncomfortable. I hate dress clothes. That stupid tux made me want to kill things. But Craig said I looked nice, so I guess I had to be stoked about that. He as usual looked totally killer in his slacks and royal blue dress shirt. I had to keep averting my eyes from the undone top two buttons of said shirt. Just that little hint of pectoral muscles accented by the silver chain I gave him for our year anniversary (two weeks prior) was making me want to jump him in front of everyone.

So we mingled. Drank punch and made conversation with all of our friends. Kyle was there stag, most girls being totally intimidated by his rough-and-tumble bad boy good looks. I always kinda thought he was sexy...if it wasn't for Craig, I'd have lusted after Kyle quite a bit. And I wasn't the only one, as I spied Christophe DeLorne sneaking glances at him from the punch table. He pretty much stuck with Stan and Wendy who were there looking perfect in matching white. Clyde was there alone as well. His girlfriend couldn't make it from Middle Park due to transportation issues, but she wanted him to have a good time anyway. Wendy had promised him a dance just so he could have a picture of him dancing at his Senior Prom. Personally I didn't see where a guy as nice and good-looking as Clyde was going to have any trouble finding girls to dance with, but I think Wendy wanted to make sure he'd have a friend to dance with in case he wasn't comfortable dancing with some random girl. Token was there with Jenna, otherwise known as Red who stuck to his hip like glue. And as for dear Kenny, who was probably my best friend after Craig, he was lurking around somewhere…said he needed to hook up with his mystery date that he refused to tell me the name of.

A whistle sounded over the loudspeaker. Principal Hall took the stage, standing in front of the big DJ booth set up on it.

"Alright, you bunch of crazy teenagers….it's time to begin the dancing. A big round of applause for our DJ tonight…our very own Eric Cartman." The crowd went nuts. Cartman, as he was still known, took the booth with many bows and kisses blown at the crowd. His girlfriend, the ever-annoying Bebe, looked like she was going to pee herself with excitement that her boyfriend was the DJ for the Senior Prom. Cartman had cleaned up a lot, wasn't nearly the asshole he'd been for most of our younger days, but he still had a wicked mean streak. Now it was just directed at underclassmen. Football playing brought him head cheerleader Bebe, and he'd been king of the world in his own mind ever since.

Craig and I wandered over to a table and sat, watching as our laughing friends all made their way to the dance floor. Clyde got swooped in on by Leah Timblen, and blushed his way out as well. Did I call it or what? Kyle started to head over to where Craig and I were sitting, but he was "accidentally" tripped by Christophe and tumbled gracelessly to the ground. Profuse apologies flew from the Frenchman's mouth as he assisted the sputtering Kyle to his feet, which were accepted with dignity. Soon the two were engrossed in conversation over the merits of Foreign versus American cars. Craig and I chuckled at the way Chris kept finding excuses to playfully push or poke the grinning redhead.

So there Craig and I were, talking animatedly about our plans for the future, both of us off to the same college, him for music (he picks up his guitar and I want to cream my jeans, he's so good) and me for art (I'm halfway skilled with a pencil. Who knew?). And that's when it happened.

Cartman's voice came over the loudspeaker. From the second I heard that malicious grin in his voice, I knew something horrible was about to happen.

"This next song was requested by my hot-ass girlfriend, Bebe. It goes out to South Park High School's resident gay dancing duo. Craig, Tweek, this one's all for you. You'd better get out on that dance floor now."

I looked at Craig, shaking violently in both embarrassment and fear. His eyes were as wide as his face would allow, and his jaw was working soundlessly. His eyes met mine and I could see the stark terror screaming out of them.

"Yes that's right, people. They've been hiding it for years. These two can prance about like a couple of little Sugarplum fairies. Heh…fairies. Hehheh. Anyway…we wanna see what they can do. Who wants to see them break it down for us?"

And the crowd went mad. I fixed Bebe with a stare that threatened exquisite torture as soon as I got her alone. She just shrugged and grinned evilly. A glance at Cartman and he gave a kind of apologetic half-smile. I guessed that Bebe had put him up to it. Probably was denying him pussy unless he made us look like idiots. She and Craig had been paired up for a dance number once. She never forgave for nuzzling her chest in the middle of it while on stage, just to be an ass. She completely lost her composure and just kind of stood there blankly while Craig continued to dance around her as if nothing had happened. She was mortified about it for weeks, especially after a lecture from Madame Raphali about keeping focused while on stage.

As the crowd began to chant "CRAIG AND TWEEK", I felt something stir up in me. Something so unlike me I was scared at first. The only way I could describe it was determination. So Bebe wanted to make us look like fools? Well, we'd show her. My brain's usual haphazardness sharpened to crystal clarity, and like that I knew what I was going to do. I rose from the table and removed my tux jacket. I folded it neatly and set it in my chair. Then I grabbed Craig's hand and pulled him up next to me. He gave me a petrified look that also asked why I didn't love him any more. I gave him a trembling smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"They want a show, Craigy-kins? Let's give them one they'll never forget." His eyes, if possible, grew wider, but he seemed to take courage from the look I gave him. He started smiling, feebly at first, but gaining confidence as I continued to stare him in the eyes. He nodded once, and with an audible gulp followed me toward the dance floor. As we passed Clyde, I leaned forward and whispered quickly in his ear. Clyde broke out with a huge grin of his own and nodded at me. Clyde and Kenny, our respective best friends, were the only others who had ever seen Craig and I dance. Clyde immediately went to take care of the other part of my plan. I continued on to the dance floor, loosening my belt and tie and kicking off my shoes as I went. Craig followed suit and soon we were standing in the middle of the floor, surrounded by our screaming peers.

As the music began, I had to stifle a snort of laughter. It was one of the few songs that Craig and I had danced in together. Just us and one other guy. We both hated the music and the dance was totally cheesy with hip-hop moves, but we both admitted it was pretty fun. Kind of fitting Bebe should pick that particular song to humiliate us with. I quickly pecked Craig on the lips and took my position. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bebe standing at the front of the crowd, arms crossed and a devious smirk on her face. I Craig'd her and assumed my opening stance. She frowned, looking shocked at my audacity. I wanted to laugh in her face.

"Space Cowboy" began to blare from the DJ booth, and Craig and I began to do our thing.

The crowd went postal as Craig and I slid past each other with effortless ease. I watched Craig as best as I could throughout while giving each move the proper emphasis. He seemed a little hesitiant at first, but soon he was lost in the dance. I grinned from ear to ear and let myself go.

Turn, leap, kick, shake and shimmy…perfectly in unison. Claps and stomps emphasized our motions as we whirled and spun. We flowed around each other, grinning like fools. The hip-hop gyrations seemed to put the crowd into a frenzy of cheering and yelling. About the start of the second chorus, Craig started to improvise. I gasped as a hand grabbed my waist and he ground his pelvis into my backside. My whole body seemed to blaze up with feeling as I momentarily lost myself in the sensation of his hard body pressed so close to my own. Craig and I had danced together, but never together. Never actually with one another, touching in all the right places. I slammed my thoughts back on track, desperately ignoring the feel of his maleness against my ass-crack. I giggled and went with it, dipping low like a some rap-video hoochie, pushing my rear full into his crotch. When the "Yippie-i-yays" started, I bent full at the waist again, touching the ground and "pony"-ing as he "rode" me with one hand in the air, mock-lassoing. I snorted with laughter as he even slapped me full on the ass. I could here the crowd going insane as we turned the silly dance into something like gay humor/porno. And then the music got quiet. Craig and I assumed poses. The music kicked back in as we really broke it down, 'NSync rapping away over the speakers.

As I hit the ground to bust out some break-dancing, Craig following suit, I felt my adrenaline spike as the crowd blew the roof with their applause. In perfect sync, we both spun and flipped, twisted and threw ourselves about. As the rap came to a close, we both completely left the ground in perfect backflips to land on our feet. The music paused again with us posing provocatively, and then kicked back in with us leaping to high kick, then resuming our dancing.

The dance ended with us back to back, breathing hard, sweat dripping off of us. The crowd surged forward to crush us, but I held everyone back with one hand raised. I saw Clyde and Kenny both pushing through the crowd. When they reached the center, they clapped us both on the back and Clyde waved to Cartman. The four of us stood in a line as another song began. I glanced at Craig and our best friends and felt a swelling of pride. I couldn't ask for better people in my life.

"Dance, Dance" burst over the sound system and we began to dance like total idiots. As we broke out our corniest moves, the crowd got the idea and pretty soon the place was a writhing mass of bodies. Craig and I ended up pressed against each other as people went insane around us. I could see Kenny laughing so hard he could barely stand as he made with some of the best "white boy" dancing I've ever seen. Clyde was doing the Robot, and Token had a crotch full of Red's shaking butt. Wendy was "putting some stank on it", and Stan seemed completely entranced by the sight of her bouncing chest even as he made with some silly line-dancing maneuvers I remembered his father teaching him. Kyle and Christophe were starting their very own mosh pit and getting glared at by a very disgruntled Bebe, who they kept slamming into. A glance at the stage even showed Cartman getting down with his bad self, disco dancing like a lunatic.

About halfway through the song, Craig and I began to make our way nonchalantly through the jiving mass of teenagers. We finally broke out and Craig immediately seized me in a fierce hug, lifting me completely off the ground. I laughingly returned the embrace, squeezing him tightly.

"Now that wasn't so bad, now was it?" I pulled away to look him in the eyes. His gaze was lit up with adrenaline and passion and an urgency that made my mouth go dry. I felt my body start its usual trembling as that gaze crashed through my euphoric high.

"No. Not at all." And his lips crushed into mine.

I moaned as his tongue slid easily into my welcoming mouth. He kissed me with a ferocity I'd never experienced before. Sure, we'd shared heated kisses. But nothing this…animal. I felt myself lifted, and vaguely understood I was being carried somewhere. I felt a door slam harshly into my back as we exited the gymnasium. This excited me for some reason I couldn't begin to fathom. Might have had something to do with the fact that I could feel his arousal pressed long and thick between us. The next coherent thought I had was that we were somehow in our English classroom. Craig deposited me unceremoniously on the teacher's desk, mouth never leaving mine. His hands were tearing frantically at the buttons of my formal shirt, and I gave a very un-Tweek-like hiss as his sweaty hands connected with the bare skin of my chest. He released my mouth, panting heavily. His forehead pressed against my own, and my mind spun dizzily as I was met once again with that look of pure need.

"Oh God, Tweek. Watching you dance, feeling you against me like that, I've never been so turned on in my life. I want you so bad right now." I could see it all there in those burning brown eyes. And something in my head snapped. Thoughts spun crazily through my head, but overruling them all was the thought that if I didn't have Craig right now, the world would end horribly and painfully. I closed the distance between our lips with abandon as my hands began work on his shirt. Soon it joined mine on the floor and my hands were working feverishly at the fastenings of his pants. He picked me up and stood me on shaking legs so he could get mine off. I nearly lost everything when my perfectly pressed trousers hit the floor in a puddle around my ankles and his hands cupped my naked ass under my boxer-briefs. I practically tore the pants off him, shucking his boxers down without any preamble. He pushed down my underwear, and I stepped out of the whole mess, kicking it in the vague direction of where I thought my shirt was. I felt him do the same, and we both paused for a second to admire each other's nakedness.

CENSORED FOR CONTENT! To read the uncensored version, visit the "other" site. If you don't know what that is, note me and I'll send you a link.

"Wow…that was…s-something, Craig."


"I love you, Craig. S-so much. Always w-will."

I felt him smile into my hair. "I love you too, Tweekers. Forever. Plus some."

Chuckling softly, I closed my eyes and just basked in the afterglow of our first time. Our breathing stilled, falling into sync with one another. I felt myself start to drift into peaceful sleep, smiling dreamily, giddy with love and the feel of him wrapped around me. All that was stopped rather rudely. I'll never forgive Kenny. Okay, I did…he's my best friend, but boy was I miffed at him at the time.

"Woah! Looks like this room is already in use, Butters!" I sat up quickly, covering my privates with both hands. Kenny was standing in the doorway looking like a million dollars had fallen out of the sky and right into his lap. Behind him, a shocked-looking Butters stood, jaw hanging open. Craig glanced up sleepily, and after seeing who it was, grinned like an idiot, not making a single effort to hide his rather obvious masculinity.

"W-well geez, Kenny! Is that what y-you're planning for us?" Butters looked both terrified and intrigued at the thought.

Kenny wrapped his arm around the waist of his "mystery date" and smirked. "You'll just have to wait and see like a good little boy, now won't you?" He gave me a couple of eyebrow raises and a wink. I just sat there, still trying to get over the shock of being discovered in such a…compromising position.

"Well, even though it looks like you have all the party you need in here, you might wanna get back to the dance. People have been looking for you." And with one final wink, he closed the door. I could just barely hear Butters' puzzled words.

"Shucks…Craig sure does have a big weiner…I didn't know they made 'em that big…."

I couldn't help chuckling as I fell back into Craig's warm embrace. He gave a snort of laughter as well.

"Well Mr. M-modest, he's probably right. You may n-not have a p-problem with everyone seeing your "weiner", b-but I do. It's my personal property now." I poked the aforementioned organ with one hand and was rewarded with a gasp.

"Your personal property, eh? I love it when you talk all "dom" like that." He raised himself up on one elbow to grin at me. I couldn't resist and leaned up to kiss him slow and sensually.

"Who w-woulda ever thunk it, right?" He laughed out loud at that.

"As long as you realize that it's my turn next time, Mr. Tweak."

"Mr. Cavelli, I l-look forward to it with every "b-bone" in my body."

I gasped a little at my frankness, but realized that was a little silly after what we'd just done. Craig burst into hysterical giggles, which got me going. When we both recovered, we just smiled lovingly at each other before remembering we were supposed to be getting dressed.

We sat up and began trying to make sense of the garments strewn about. Craig used his underwear to clean us both up, including my hand and the…mess…he'd left on the floor. He then pocketed the soiled garment and went without, using the rationalization that my tux was rented whereas his pants actually belonged to him. I think he just liked the idea of going commando. And me knowing about it. We also giggled quite a bit about how much the desk was moved. We decided to leave it, just to confuse poor Ms. Engleman.

Soon we were both decently clothed. We took a few moments to primp each other, him straightening my tie and me adjusting his collar. Gave us an excuse to prolong our alone-ness. And steal random kisses.

We made our way back to the gymnasium, sneaking in and acting as if we'd never left. People began noticing us, and coming up to congratulate us on our phenomenal performance. Most probably didn't even know I existed before then, and Craig was just the star soccer player. But we made a name for ourselves that night.

Turns out we were only gone for about an hour. Just enough time to get the slow songs started. When "You and Me" started playing, we made our way onto the dance floor to get in at least one slow song. I wrapped my arms around Craig's waist and leaned my head against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and draped his arms around my neck. We swayed back and forth to the music, me softly singing along. I looked around, picking friends' faces out in the crowd. Clyde waved at me from a table, obviously talking to his girlfriend, cell pressed to his ear. Stan and Wendy were dancing fairly close to us, as were Token and Red. Both couples smiled and waved. The oddest though was Kyle and Christophe dancing drunkenly over in a corner. Kyle raised a flask to me when he saw me looking, grinning like a fool and sloshing alcohol everywhere. I gave him a thumbs-up and Christophe a wink and grin. The Frenchman didn't seem to believe his luck as he clumsily rocked the wasted Jew in his arms. He smiled sheepishly back and nodded. And Kenny and Butters…I'm sure they had a great time wherever they went. Never asked for details, you know?

I was distracted from my reverie and Craig's strong arms around me by a flash. Jimmy stood there, camera hanging around his neck and girlfriend Nancy smiling at his side.

"F-f-for the y-yearbook," he said with a smile.

"If you want a copy, we'll put you down for one." Craig nodded immediately, and Nancy made a note on a clipboard.

"G-g-great j-job, guys. You r-really r-r-rocked the c-casbah."

"Thanks, Jimmy." Craig smiled at the pair and they returned to taking pictures. The song ended and we made our way over to a wall. Craig sat against it, and I curled up against him.

"Well, not bad for a stupid Prom, if I do say so." Craig chuckled slightly as he said it.

"I'll s-say. But what about our p-plans for the rest of the night?"

"Well, I think we already took care of most of them." I snorted into his shirt. "I'm pretty tired now. Dancing, then…stuff…and more dancing. Never a dull moment." He squeezed me tightly, and I sighed contentedly.

"I'm f-fine with some sleep myself. I think I'll actually p-pull more than four hours t-tonight. Especially if you'll keep me c-company."

"Of course. We'll hang out for a little while longer, then head back to my place, okay?" I nodded and closed my eyes sleepily.

The next thing I knew, we were being woken up by a grinning Kenny and a very tousled-but-happy-looking Butters.

So that was it. Craig and I ended up back at his place where we slept till morning, and I got to experience the pleasure of waking to a snoring Craig for the first time. Hasn't gotten old in ten years. Craig also made good on his promise to pay me back. But that's a whole other story.

The remaining weeks of school had both of us unable to sit through English without hysterical giggling, especially whenever the teacher actually sat on the desk. We spent a lot of time in the office because of it. Something involving the Algebra room made sure we were never alone. Kenny and Butters joined us frequently.

The picture Jimmy took of us ended up not only in the yearbook and our personal collection, but on the bulletin board of "South Park High's Fondest Memories" right next to one of us mid-flip during our dance. Senior Prom for the Class of 2005 was forever known as the night Craig Cavelli and Tweek Tweak brought the house down. Kids still talk about it to this day. I teach art there now, and my students look up to me as some sort of legend. I always tell them that it sure was one hell of a night.

But not for the reasons they think.


End notes: Well, there you have it. Please don't kill me. I know they're out of character. But I can do that. Call it poetic license or something.

I don't hate Bebe. I love her. Just worked for my storyline. And I wanted to go against the Wendy-bashing grain. And putting her with Cartman the disco-dancing DJ was for my own amusement.

Um..the Kyle/Christophe is for Maggie. As well as Tweek thinking Kyle was totally hot. If you don't understand that, YOU NEED TO READ WRITER'S HAZARD BY HER. Look under MeLadie.

Clyde…written with Rachel in mind. I didn't slash him headdesk…but he's there in all his glory for her. Cuz she rules.

If anyone gets the reference about Wendy "putting some stank on it", a thousand points and a gold star.

Featuring DancingTweek'nCraig. I'm a dancer. Ten years and going strong. So it works for me. They dance…you all just never knew. :D I have quite a bit in common with Tweek, and for those who didn't know, he's only like my favorite character in THE ENTIRE WORLD. So I usually write him from my perspective. So it follows in my mind that he would make a great dancer. Just without anyone knowing. Craig…I think guys that can dance are totally hot (same with the guitar thing…total boner for them), so I made Craig a dancer as well. STFU!

Featured DomTweek…cuz us twitchy nutjobs do just fine as tops. And Craig seems like a pretty versatile guy to me. Not enough top Tweek around. I dare to be different. :P Also…the graphic. I have way too much free time and sexual frustration. So…porn. I Craig anyone who wants to talk smack. Hard dirty classroom sex on a teacher's desk is all for Allan. He is my smut-muse. And I love him dearly.

Songs featured:

"Space Cowboy" by 'Nsync—I never danced to this, but I saw it done. Was hysterical. I did get the wonderful pleasure of dancing to "Just Got Paid" by them though. Twas fun. And really funny from the audience's perspective I'm told.

"Dance, Dance" by Fallout Boy—A blatant ripoff of the music video. Cuz it owns. Plus it's in there for Taylor, cuz she owns as well. You may fling a squishy thing of your choice in my general direction for my unoriginality. But I giggled like a madman while writing it. So there.

"You and Me" by Lifehouse—Cuz I'd love to dance to that with someone really special. I think it's a beautiful song, and it's one of my favorites to sing.

Forgive my pathetic brain for its lameness. I'm vastly unoriginal. But eh…I had fun. So oh well.

READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! I always want to know how I'm doing. Praise will make me squeal and dance and sing and possibly wet myself in sheer unadulterated joy. Concrit will be taken with the utmost respect and careful consideration. If you simply don't like it, say so and tell me why. Flames will be laughed at and will encourage more thoughtless, unoriginal OOC porn. This was written for friends…which is enough for me. If I have a blast and am actually pleased with it, all the better. So let me know what you think. I'd really like to know.